


The Grass is Greener

by MissKierie



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Double Penetration, Other, Reader-Insert, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Voyeurism, fucking the flower, into it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 02:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5440073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKierie/pseuds/MissKierie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vines hold you in place. Between your breasts. Encircling your waist. One curled around each leg, sneaking into your socks and shoes, tangling between your toes. They snaked your arms and danced around your fingers. Annoying. Unnecessary.</p><p>“HEY. FLOWER. Little over the top, don’t yo-ohhaaaAA!!”</p><p>You’re interrupted as the vines suddenly gripped TIGHT, puckering your skin between the bindings and causing you to flush deeply. The atmosphere changed.</p><p>You hear a familiar chuckle.</p><p>“Did you just moan?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Grass is Greener

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s a sin I wrote while a friend and I moped about there being so few good Flowey fics. Yes, I want to fuck the flower. Readers gender is left to interpretation and they have a vagina. First thing I've written in a long time. Feel free to critique. Enjoy!

You….. You aren’t really sure what happened. Your head is spinning. Lying on the ground. On your back. Fuck… your brain throbs. You try to move your hand to inspect the damage. Not moving. Tied down? All your limbs are restrained by something. Vision still blurry. What the fuck is pinning you down?

THAT FUCKING FLOWER.

Now you remember. That fucking asshole. He tried to talk to you. Just a distraction? You weren’t paying attention. Thinking of a pun to tell Sans in the bedroom. Or the sentry station. Or the restroom at Grillby’s. Wherever you two decided to be inconsiderate asses who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Flowey grew frustrated at your lack of attention. Friendliness pellets. Well, fuck.

Vines hold you in place. Between your breasts. Encircling your waist. One curled around each leg, sneaking into your socks and shoes, tangling between your toes. They snaked your arms and danced around your fingers. Annoying. Unnecessary.

“HEY. FLOWER. Little over the top, don’t yo-ohhaaaAA!!”

You’re interrupted as the vines suddenly gripped TIGHT, puckering your skin between the bindings and causing you to flush deeply. The atmosphere changed.

You hear a familiar chuckle.

“Did you just moan?”

You grit your teeth and regain your composure, forcefully struggling against Flowey’s hold, actually trying to escape. Mostly from your embarrassment. Where is he? Fuck. Can’t see him.

He chuckles again. Higher pitched this time. Genuine glee.

“I was just going to mess with you. I didn’t think it would be this easy to see you… unravel.” His voice flutters at the end.

You whimper at the hopelessness of your situation and at your own. fucking. self. This was hot. Fuck, why did it have to be hot. Sans had tried bondage before but this was… damn. This was a big turn on. You juggle your options in your head. You struggle again. Nope. Negotiation?

“F-Flowey.” Your voice falters. “I. I mean, come on, dude.” You let out another gasp as a vine creeps closer to your inner thigh. Fuck. “This isn’t funny. J-just let me go and I’ll listen to your speech or whatever.” You don’t sound nearly as powerful as you wanted to.

Out of no where, he’s above you. Face to face. His eyes wide, pupils dilated. Mouth pulled back into an unnatural smile. The intensity makes you squirm and you try to sink into the ground as much as you can. His lower petals tickle your collarbone. You break and look way, turning your head but keeping one eye peaked at him. His lips stretch over his teeth as he laughs.

“Now why would I do something like that?!” He fucking breathes on you, he’s so close. How does a flower breathe? Vines still tightening. One starts inching its way up the front of your shirt.

Ok. Negotiation: out. Fighting: out. Ugh, he’s so close to your face. He smells like a goddamn daisy. You decide your best bet is just to fuck the flower. You’ve kinda wanted to for a while sooo, why not? Or just let him do his thing. Whatever.

You let out a stilted chortle at his question, “cause I’m a gross-ass human! Do you… Is this really something you wanna do?” You decide to just be real. You both know what’s happening here.

The creeping plant wraps itself around your breast and you maintain a fairly straight face, only moaning for half a second. You’re proud. Go you, no mouth open screams of pleasure! Ha ha…

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Flowey chimes as the tip of his vine twines around your perked nipple. He pulllssss on it and you clench your teeth to stifle a groan. He leans his face back a bit to get a better look at you. One thick vine nudges itself between your slightly spread legs. It presses against your heat and ooh fuck. You want more than that. You move your hips against it slightly, then he forcefully holds you still. “Maybe I just like watching you sufferrr.”

You hate how turned on your getting. You hate how bothered you get from his capricious voice, exaggerated expressions, the stupid fucking delicate scent emanating off him. You keep telling yourself this sucks. but. It’s hot. And your getting wetter by the minute.

You let out a pompous laugh. “Suffer? I’m so turned on right now, these are all my kinks.” You probably shouldn’t be sassing the determination-fueled plant that has you pinned to the ground. but… It’s always been like this with Flowey. Constant jabs and conflict. You figure his response will just be a harsh nipple pinch or a vine-slap to the face. oh noo. not that. please don’t, Flowey, nooo.

Then. He does something you don’t expect. Looking right at you, his face morphs. Into. Sans’ face. Sans’ face in distress. Your expression suddenly turns to revulsion as he lowers himself upon you. You scream for him to stop as he smashes his teeth into your lips, rubbing himself against your face. The plant between your legs grinds HARD against your pants. So hard it hurts. You slam your eyes shut. Try to turn your head away. His face morphs lips and he kisses you, forcefully. Holding you in place. His tongue is inside you. You accept it. Tastes sweet. Nectar?

You open your eyes as he’s kissing you and his face is back to ‘normal.’ The eye contact must have intimidated him or something. His dumb flower face is blushing. He quickly buries himself in your neck and continues the exploration of your body. “I’ve watched you,” he pants. “You and that skeleton.” The vines are untangling and your pants are rolling down your thighs. Fuck.

You whine and willingly spread your legs. You can smell yourself. God that’s fucking. Gross and erotic. You nuzzle your cheek against his petals as he continues to hide in the crook of your shoulder. “It’s fucking disgusting.” He wraps another part of himself around your neglected breast and squeezes both of them firmly, the feeling of your flesh making him sigh. “Both of you. Disgusting.”

His harsh words make you whimper. Tears welling in your eyes. Your panties are gone. “Flowey,” you coo. A vine is against your entrance. Tapered tip barely touching you. Fuck this anticipation. Your hands grip the plants holding you down affectionately. You want to reciprocate in some way.

“The sweat… the things he does to you. I didn’t know you were such a freak.” The words sting and oh god you want more. He still doesn’t move.

“Fuck me, please.” You’re so wet and he’s so close he’s all around you he’s all you can experience. In this moment you’re absolutely in love with him. “Please. Flowey.”

Still can’t move an inch.

You wait.

He pulls himself off you. About a foot away from your face. Expression… extreme. The only way you could describe his expression is. Determined?

“Shut up.” He plunges into you. All the way. As far as the vine can force itself in. Your scream is cut off as one of his appendages wraps around your mouth, effectively gagging you. GOD it’s so deep.

And then it’s GONE. He pulls out of you and the most haughty grin stretches across his lips. “Just LOOK AT YOU!”

Your groin is aching with desire, all you care about is having him inside you again. Your whining and pleading is muffled by his grip on your face. The tears start flowing.

“Writhing and whimpering like a SLUT.” The vine that was once inside you slaps your stomach, making an obnoxious squelching sound. “I’m a FLOWER!!” A tinge of sadness in his voice. “I’ve hardly even touched you and you’re fucking soaked!” He enters you again. Pumps himself in and out of you. You weren’t expecting it, and after a few bumps to that nerve bundle, you climax. Your body tenses, senses overload, muscles clenching, eyes rolling back in your head. You squirt all over your legs and the ground. He stops.

You bask in the after-shocks for a moment before opening your eyes and seeing him looking down at you. He’s… disappointed.

He sighs and shakes his head. “I didn’t… I hardly did anything,” he seems confused. “That wasn’t even a challenge.”

You look up at him with big, sparkly eyes and do your best to shrug your shoulders. The vine around your mouth loosens and you take a big lung-full of fresh air. You say the first thing that comes to your recently ecstasy-riddled mind, “the party’s just getting started, flower-man!”

That seemed to snap something in him. He lifts you up by your limbs and slams you on your stomach, the vine around your hips hoisting your ass into the air. You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. He must’ve hated that sound because to shut you up, a plant starts creeping inside your ass. Oh. OH.

“I know you like it here. I’ve seen you with all three of your filthy holes stuffed.” He’s not as lubed as he should be. It hurts as he slowly inches inside. Hunched over you, he teases your clit surprisingly well. It’s sensitive from your orgasm and that hurts too.

You’re in pain, he’s inside you, but… you can’t help yourself. “Ahh, Flowey…. don’t be such a pain in the ass.” You look over your shoulder at him with the worst smile.

That must’ve been the last straw. No more games. Vines in each of your holes. Maybe two in each hole? Three? And one pinching your clit. It’s so tight. He’s biting your neck. Calling you names. Thrusting himself into you. As the vines in your front pull out, the ones in the back push in. You feel the vines in each hole rubbing together between your tissue. You’re sobbing. It’s so much it’s too much. It hurts so much. It feels so good. Occasionally you manage to squeak out his name, making him pause briefly.

“Why…?” Flowey whispers, continuing to ravage you. “Why are you like this?”

“MORE!” You’re drooling, hips struggling to thrust back against him. You’re like an animal at this point, so overwhelmed, riding out orgasm after orgasm, getting so sore. You’re so in love right now. “Thankyouthankyouplease, MORE!”

He’s plunging into you as hard as he can. He’s panting. He’s blushing so hard. He’s wincing. He’s.. about to cry?

One last orgasm. Your muscles throb. He grunts and holds his breath. Did he just cum? The plants start to retreat from your body, returning to the ground. You sit up on your knees and let out a happy sigh, stretching out your arms, rolling your shoulders. Once you catch your breath, you start to speak, “holy shit, Flowey that was…” You turn around to face him but. Flowey’s not there. The only trace of him ever being there is you. The soreness of your orifices. The vine marks on your skin.

Your smile drops. You slowly put your clothes back on. Stand up. Start to walk home. Don’t look back. Maybe look back once. Home. Sans is there. On the couch. You can’t even look at him.

He sees you and his eyes brighten. His grin gets wider. “I might be going out on a limb here, but you sure took your thyme walking home today. The grass must have been greener on the other side today, huh.”

You just stare at him. Blink. Blink. He’s holding in his laughter. You shamble up to the shower to wash away your shame.

**Author's Note:**

> Read the sequel here http://archiveofourown.org/works/5464826


End file.
